In glad goodwill to men
Nursing some vast forgiveness in his mind.
Then—all turned blank and blind.
Dare we remember the tragic lilac-time
Crimsoned with that mad crime?
Nay, hush! Ye have heard how sacrifice must close
The supreme service; ’tis the way God chose.
VII
Ah, haply we, the native-born,
And sprung of grandsires native too,